


Slipping Over You

by Talc



Category: Tanz der Vampire - Steinman/Kunze
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 07:24:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8319016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talc/pseuds/Talc
Summary: Alfred thought his trip around Europe with the Professor was just going to be a routine sort of winter holiday where he wouldn't sleep, or eat, or do anything other than constantly work. But the poor young man is so clumsy it's no wonder he keeps running into trouble.





	1. He's an Idiot

Alfred likes to think he's rather smart, but he also knows only idiots venture out into the cold on snowy winter nights. He clutches himself as he walks through feet of snow, avoiding others on the busy sidewalk.

 

"Entschuldigung." Alfred muttered, his shoulder almost colliding with a passing stranger. He could feel slush leaking into his boots, sending more shivers up his spine with the horrible sensation of constant cold. His legs were numb, frozen by the wet and wind, which was blowing past his ears harshly.

 

Maybe that's why he didn't hear the stranger reply with a "Die Achtung!", referring to the ice that his foot was just about to clamp down on. Maybe this is why he screams when he falls towards what is at least three feet of snow piled off to the side.

 

Maybe this is why he's so surprised when there are arms wrapped around him, pulling him close to a soft chest, dragging him away from the snow. 

 

Alfred feels a hand encircling his arm as he is righted onto the sidewalk. Through the blur of the snow, he sees his saviour. She is tall and willowy with little to no curves. Her hair is a bright scarlet and her eyes are shining. She smiles sadly.

 

"You poor thing! So sorry about that, let me buy you a Kaffee." He is not given time to answer as the girl pulls him into a nearby Kaffeehaus, arm wound around his. Her gloves are leather and black and long, and he can feel the warmth of her body heat even through such leather and the wool of his jacket.

 

As well, the Kaffeehaus is warm and inviting, with a homey feel to it. There are soft coloured walls and groups of university students gathered around low tables in plush chairs. Informal. Very new age.

 

The girl brings Alfred to the counter and ordering is a blur, yet Alfred briefly remembers staring at the woman at the counter's breasts for a bit too long before there is a hot drink in his hands and he is being dragged to a table.

 

"Sarah." Alfred hears through the haze in his ears.

 

"Hmm?" His head feels rapidly hot and heavy. He tries to take a sip of his drinks, but none so subtly spits it out at the taste of flavoured coffee.

 

"Sarah. That's my name." She giggles and Alfred knows if had the blood to spare from his slowly thawing body, he would be blushing brighter than her hair.

 

"I-I am A-alfred." He manages to sputter out in his embarrassment, wiping at the coffee on his mouth and placing down the drink.

 

"Do you like the occult much?"

 

Alfred does not quite understand the question until he sees Sarah point at the pile of books next to him, still brushed with snow.

 

In this realisation, he hastily wipes away the snow, grimacing. "Er...No, not really." He clambers to explain. "I'm the teaching assistant for Professor Abronsius at the Univeristy of Berlin. He is an anthropologist, but his primary focuses are the ancient occults and mythologies of northern Europa. These are his books."

 

"Oh..." Sarah looks a might be disappointed.

 

"Why...Are you interested in the occult?" People normally took comfort in the fact that he’s not the one going around reading about Vampire Hunting and Lycanthropy.

 

"It just sounds so...Interesting. You know, dangerous. I thought maybe you were a vampire hunter or something. An adventurer."

 

"That's silly...Not that your ideas are silly, just, well, vampire hunters don't really carry around books or or slip in the snow." Alfred hastily counters, laughing nervously. "And Professor Abronsius is very interested in Vampires. He wrote a book about them. Self-published, uh..." He digs around in his book pile before showing Sarah a battered book. "This one." He holds it out to her without a thought. "I'm just not too big on them. Fangs and blood sucking-demons and all...Heh." He's so anxious, his hands are shaking. 

 

"Cool!" Sarah takes the book and examines it eagerly, seemingly ignoring Alfred's nerves. "So, if you are from Berlin, what are you doing in all the way out here?" She asks, not looking up from her book examining.

 

"The professor is giving lectures currently at the gymnasium a town over, and he's got one tomorrow at a nearby university. It is part of a three-month trip we are taking. The Professor's big lecture tour! We started in Berlin back in August and we've been travelling all semester. It will end in Austria around January, in Vienna."

 

"So will you not be in town for long?" Sarah asks curiously, glancing up from her book for a moment.

 

"A few more days or so. Abronsius is finishing some studies here as well, so maybe at least a week at most?"

 

"The you must come see me here again! And sneak me into a lecture! Oh, please Alfred, please?" Her voice is so sweet and her eyes so lovely, how could he say no?

 

-

 

So Alfred met Sarah every day at the café down the street from the University. They'd buy each other drinks and sit and Alfred would teach her things from Dr. Abrosius's lectures, and she would diligently take notes. Honestly, it was nice to see a student pay attention for once. And she is a very pretty girl. Alfred was most ardently infatuated with her, so much that if he were a bolder man, he'd ask her on a date.

 

"Gott, I wish I could go with you." She groans one cold night as the two sit in the Kaffeehaus, leaning her head on her hand with a sigh. "I've never even been outside of Hessen. Hell, the only city I've seen is Frankfurt." She gestures to the building around them, as if dramatically throwing her arms at the entire city that they sit in.

 

"At least you live here now." Alfred offers.

 

Sarah laughs. She has such a cute laugh, all lilting and bell-like. "Me, live here in Frankfurt? Nein, Alfred, dear, I live in Wöllstadt."

 

Alfred looks at Sarah with wide eyes. They'd been meeting for a few days now and he hadn't known...Well he just assumed that she..."Well what are you doing in Frankfurt, then?" He asks in confusion.

 

"My job is in Frankfurt. I'm a waitress. Gott, it's sooo boring. I long for something less...Abysmal." She waves her hand at the air, rolling her eyes. "I want to see the world; you know? See outside of the Rhine."

 

"Oh wow...I wish we could take you with us on the tour." Alfred frowns, feeling pity for the nice girl. Lord how he wishes he was speaking the truth. His assistant job would be so much more interesting with Sarah at his side.

 

She sits in silence for a beat, staring at Alfred blankly, before her eyes light up and she absolutely beams. "Maybe you could!" Sarah jumps up onto her feet in excitement, slamming her hands so hard on their table that surrounding patrons glare at them. She doesn't seem to care, though, just grins at Alfred, her eyes shining under her wide-brimmed glasses. "You could take me with you! You could! I could... I could ask your professor for a job or or you could tell him I have sources on a vampire or...Oh Alfred!" She leaps forward and wraps her friend in a quick hug. He's a bit too preoccupied with the soft feel of her breasts against his chest to really pay attention to...Well, anything really, not even the two quick kisses she places on his cheeks before she runs out.

 

It's several minutes later that he finally comes to his senses, realising his lap is dripping wet with the drink Sarah knocked onto him with her hug, and his face is burning. Not to mention, half the room was watching him, giggling.

 

He awkwardly gathers his things and dashes out, trying to think of a way to convince Professor Abronsius that they really _need_ to bring Sarah with them for the rest of the tour.

 

-

 

But she doesn't show.

 

The next day, Alfred arrived at the Kaffeehaus ten minutes early, rocking on his feet as he waited for Sarah, waited to tell her the good news. He had fed Abronsius a ridiculous lie about Sarah's best friend in childhood being murdered by vampires while they were playing in the woods, and how she sought revenge on the whole race, and yearned to learn about them from the vampire expert that she knew Abronsius is! It was probably the biggest bullsit he had ever spat, but the professor always appreciated the dramatics. For extra measure, he told the Professor she had read his book. He accepted the tale and Sarah was to leave with them tomorrow morning.

 

When it got too cold outside, he went into the building and got himself a drink, sitting and staring out the window, waiting. It was dark by now, the sky jet black with only the street lamps to light the way. Alfred began to worry.

 

Alfred waited for her for an hour inside the Kaffeehaus. When she showed no signs of arriving, he moved his waiting back to the cold outside, standing along the side of the street and staring out at the snow laden roads.

 

Then, like something out of a dream, or maybe just really weird de ja vu, it happens.

 

Someone shuffles past him, muttering "Entschuldigung", their shoulder knocking into his, making him stumble.  Then someone shouts "Die Actung!" And his foot is meeting ice. He slips. An arm catches him and pull him to a warm chest.

 

Yet, it is not Sarah who stares at him, but a tall, willowy man, with long platinum hair and pale skin. He is smiling with a bit too much tooth, seeming all too pleased to be holding Alfred in his arms.

 

"You must be careful, mon cher~" The man's voice croons. Definitely not Sarah.

 

Alfred's face was already flushed bright from the cold, but he knows if it was not it'd instantly be scarlet from the sheer embarrassment he was feeling right now. The body cradling him is warm and reasonably strong chested. The voice speaking to him is honestly purring with delight. Needless to say, he has no words in his throat to speak.

 

"Oh, you poor thing, all shivering and tottering. No wonder you slipped!" The stranger exclaims, pulling Alfred to his feet, though not letting go of his arms, keeping the student close. "How long have you been out here in the cold? Oh, you must let me get you a warm drink. Come." Alfred follows along in an awkward daze as he's pulled by the arm, not, towards the Kaffeehaus he is standing outside of, much to his surprise, but instead to a shiny black car pulled up by the street.

 

For a fleeting moment, Alfred worries about the predicament he is in. Who is this stranger? He seems well meaning, but way too doting to be considered completely trustworthy. And being thrust into the back of an, admittedly, really nice car was not helping his nerves. But Alfred is freezing, and still jittery from tripping. He does not have the power to fight.

 

Once he's ushered in the back, the stranger, again surprising him, sits in the backseat with him, tapping on the driver’s seat and saying something Alfred cannot comprehend, mostly because it’s French, and he’s too busy being stunned by the sudden change in location. Then they are driving.

 

"Oh, you poor darling. Here, let's get you out of that wet coat." The stranger unzips Alfred's snow coat, pulling it off him and tossing the soaked thing to the floor. It's when he begins to unknot the half dozen ties Alfred is wearing that he finally speaks.

 

"Who...Who are you?" His voice is weak, and soft, still processing the situation.

 

"My name is Herbert von Krolock." The stranger, now dubbed Herbert, proclaims proudly, tossing scarf after scarf onto the pile of wet winter wear. "And you are, cher?"

 

"Err...Alfred? Ja, ja, that is my name. Alfred."  Herbert laughs as Alfred introduces himself. His laugh is familiar, lilting, but with something underneath it that is vaguely dangerous, husky and almost predatory.  

 

"How lovely to meet you! I am so sorry to drag you along like this, but you are simply shivering down to the bone, Liebe, and I couldn't abandon someone so cute like that." Cute? Alfred flushes, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

 

"I'm not shivering." He protests, though he knows this is a lie, having been the one wearing six scarves before this endeavour.

 

"Yes you are, yes you are." Herbert tuts. "You shaking like a little bird. And you are as white as a sheet, my dear Alfred." That was really saying something, when Herbert himself was lily-white, almost grey in skin tone. He looked dead compared to Alfred, but Alfred’s teeth were chattering and he could hardly feel his hands. "I worry you are sick, standing in the street, soaking wet in the dark like you were." He clutches his own hands around Alfred’s, rubbing at the frozen skin,  and though they are not much warmer, the contact floods blood through Alfred’s veins.

 

"W-where are you taking m-me?" Alfred is not scared, per say, but he is certainly not doing well. His head is spinning and his heart his hammering hard in his chest. The anxiety this night is giving him his horrible.

 

"To get you a hot drink, of course!" Herbert laughs, placing a hand on Alfred's shoulder that is certainly not comforting.

 

"But, the Kaffeeh-"

 

"Oh, that poor place you were outside of? Darling, I know you probably haven't met many high class people, but I don't buy less when I can afford better."

 

Now that Alfred looks at him, he realises just how wealthy Herbert must be. His coat is of good make, yet thin. He only wears a single scarf, lilac and silky, which is tied in a fancy knot around his neck. He wears a hat, but it seems not to be very functional. He dresses the way one dresses when they know they won't be out in the cold long, only from the walk of a car to a door. And just by the interior, the car was very nice. Clean, and shiny, not to mention this man had a personal driver, it seems, considering the man in a suit who is driving, paying no attention to them.

 

Alfred flushes in embarrassment. He knows he's lower class, but this blatant reminder isn't very reassuring. 

 

"Nono, we're going to this cute little café by my hotel." Alfred sets himself silent then, as Herbert starts to ramble about how nice his hotel is, and the stores around it, and the shopping he did yesterday, and wow...He can really talk. It's made worst by the fact that Herbert seems obliged to compliment Alfred at every chance he can get.

 

He also notices Herbert is very...Tactile. He makes sure to touch Alfred as much as possible without being too...Creepy. He touches Alfred's hands and arms, takes a moment to touch Alfred's cheek once or twice.

 

By the time the car pulls to a stop, Alfred's skin is flushed scarlet and his eyes are constantly averting themselves away from Herbert's leering gaze. This constant attention is too much for the poor boy, not to mention overwhelmingly...Creepy.  To be honest, he's not really used to being fawned over.

 

The journey from the car to the door of the Kaffeehaus is a second blur of Herbert gripping Alfred's arm tight and pulling him into a building just as warm as the car, if not warmer. Alfred is deposited into a seat and it takes him a moment and a half to get his bearings.

 

When he looks at the room, he's shock still by just how nice a 'café', as Herbert had called it, can be. The walls were a rich golden colour, and the floors were a pale green. There were plenty of couches set around the room, the ones that he was thrown on being right in front of a large, white fireplace, which, in the current winter cold, was lit and kindled.

 

The place was also pretty empty, which isn't too surprising considering how late it is. There was only four other customers, gathered in the back, sitting together in clothes too nice for the current weather, and sufficiently cuddling.

 

Herbert probably had similar intentions.

 

"Now cher, what do you want?" Said Herbert asks, leaning over the back of the couch to place his face parallel to Alfred's

 

"...Huh?" Alfred had momentarily forgotten where he was and what he was doing here.

 

"To drink? They have very good cappuccinos here. I assume..." The last part is added as a murmur aside as the man glances away for a moment.

 

"Oh...Well I'm not really a fan of Kaffee...I'm more of Heiße Schokalad or Tee kind of-" But Herbert has already left, zipping off to the counter. Alfred sighs, letting his back fall against the sofa.

 

He gazes up at the ceiling, thinking about he possibly got here. Life is ridiculous...Just a half hour or so ago, he's been waiting out in the cold for Sar- Oh Sheiße! Alfred had forgotten about Sarah!

 

His eyes widen and he prepares himself to leave, when suddenly a drink is being shoved in his face. Alfred does not have the reflexes to react, so he goes still, staring at the pale hand in front of him, which holds a dark, steaming mug. There is a second or too where Alfred just stares before he follows the hand up a slim arm to the body it is attached too.

 

Herbert is grinning down at him with too much teeth. Alfred hesitantly takes the mug from him, allowing Herbert the chance to sit on the couch as well, very, _very_ close to Alfred, so much that their thighs are touching, and the one foot that Herbert has not tucked underneath him is rubbing against Alfred's leg.

 

Alfred sips the mug hesitantly and hums at the warm taste of rich chocolate and cream, the perfect temperature for drinking. But it’s the arm casually draped over the back of the couch that truly makes him feel warm, though in his mind he knows Herbert feels just as cold, if not colder than him.

 

“So Alfred,” Herbert starts, leaning close to his face and humming. “Tell me about yourself.”

 

Alfred swears he almost chokes on his own tongue. He hesitantly puts his drink down, watching as Herbert stares at him with what looks like genuine interest, not really a common look to be pointed at Alfred.

 

“There’s not much to t-tell…” He murmurs.

 

Herbert hums disapprovingly. “What a lie.” He playfully flicks Alfred on the shoulder, smiling when he yelps. “Everyone has something to say about themselves. I for one LOVE to talk about myself.” He grins and Alfred notices his lilac lipstick for the first time. It’s an odd colour, but strangely…complimentary of Herbert’s greying skin. “You are a student, yes? You look like a student. What do you study?”

 

“Oh well…I’m actually a graduate student at the University of Berlin. My major is anthropology, mostly with a concentration on Urban and Religious ethnography. But right now I’m travelling with Professor Abronsius, I’m his assistant, while he travels northern Europe giving superstition lectures. Not that I really am focusing my study on what is essentially theoretical anthropology, but there’s not really a lot of cultural studies options as a student teacher at the school and I’m talking too much aren’t I?” He ends his speech when he catches Herbert staring at him with half-lidded eyes.

 

Herbert straightens when Alfred finishes abruptly, shaking his head. “Nono Alfred, please keep speaking so passionately! I am the one who asked about you, do not apologise for speaking of your studies in length.”

 

“Oh well…Okay…” Alfred fiddles with his fingers for a moment before taking a scalding gulp of his drink and continuing. “I actually was going to go into Historical studies, but I soon found cultural aspects of society were much more interesting. I’ve been working on my degree, but I need experience, you know? So I looked for an academic job, but the professor was the only one in the Anthropology department hiring.” He glances at Herbert, blushing at the absolutely absorbed look in his eyes, like he was genuinely interested in what Alfred was saying. “T-the professor studies all these sort of weird occult things. Sometimes I feel like I’m doing a study myself, on him….” He laughs awkwardly, running his now warm fingers through his hair, scratching the back of his neck.

 

“Fascinating~” Herbert purrs.

 

Alfred really doesn’t think it’s all that interesting, especially since he wasn’t even actually talking about anthropology, just his history with it. It’s fairly embarrassing for him, so he changes the subject. “What about you?”

 

“Hm?” Herbert’s eyes widen. “Oh, well I never got a degree or anything. I’ve taken classes, but Papa says there’s no reason for me to really go to school. Which I agree; school is boring.” His hand reaches up to twirl some of Alfred’s already very curly hair around his finger. “I find other things…Interesting.”

 

“Oh…” Alfred doesn’t really know what he’s talking about, but he does feel strangely prey-like. Maybe it’s the toothy smile Herbert is shooting at him, but it makes him shiver.

 

-

 

Once he’s finished with his drink, Alfred finds himself back in Herbert’s car, being driven to the university. He doesn’t really remember most of the drive, but he’s left standing on the sidewalk in the middle of the night, wrapped in Herbert’s jacket and sweater, shivering as he hurries into the building before him.

 

-

 

Alfred returns to his hotel after dropping of the Professor's things at the university where he is giving his final lecture in Frankfurt. He falls down onto his bed with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling. what a day...

 

When his lethargy wanders away, he pulls out his laptop and carefully searches _Herbert von Krolock_ on the internet.

 

The results he gets are rather varied. Apparently, there was a rather raunchy erotica writer in the 16th century by that name, who wrote controversial homosexual romance novels. Then there was a male model from the 1950s who made it big in America for a brief time. There's a handful of other things, including some multi-national company scandal, but more importantly Alfred finds a blog.

 

It's an absolutely gaudy thing, this blog. The design is purple, lacy and flowery, with a picture of Herbert at the top, an obviously carefully taken picture of the man in a stylish, feathery outfit with tight leather pants and six handfuls of frill. At the top reads the title HERBERT'S FABULOUS BLOG by Herbert von Krolock in the loopiest of fonts, and a pale pink colour.

 

His blog posts are short most often, though there are longer ones that fill up whole pages, but these seem to be rather...Graphic depictions of the man's sexual history, and very enthusiastic descriptions of the people he meets at parties, mostly young men, and the clothes he wears. He has a penchant for glitter and silk, as far as Alfred can tell. Also very high heeled boots, laced up to the knee. The rest are like diary posts.

 

Alfred finds one from a week or so ago and begins to read.

 

_I am SO excited. Papa says we are going to France! Isn't that exciting? IT REALLY IS. I haven't seen France in DECADES I swear omfg. Honest I’m just happy to see home for a bit. Travelling is fun, but you never forget where you were born. But he we must find **her** first. Ugh, another silly pet for him to play with, as if he will ever find **her** , ‘the one’. Papa is such a dramatic child! He sulks in bars and clubs like some sort of monster, I swear. That's no way to find a lover! I can't wait to see Paris! Though I'd rather it just be Papa and I...And maybe a young man. I would not mind a cute boy to keep me company. But I do not think I will find him in Frankfurt. This city is nice but...Boring. I **know** Parisians are much cuter. IM GOING TO PARIS!!!_

 

The next diary post was dated a few days later around, Alfred notes, the time that he arrived in Frankfurt.

 

_I WAS WRONG, there are cute boys in Frankfurt. The cutest! I was passing by a café on my way to go shopping when I saw him! He is adorable, with the most beautiful hair and lashes, they are like golden threads, so long and lush I could see them all the way from the across the street! I mean, he dresses like a blind schoolboy with only a dollar to his name, but HIS HAIR, it must be a gift from THE GODS. And omg his skin is so pale and smooth. It looks so soft...I cannot wait to see him again, so I am going out tomorrow night to see if he returns to the café. Maybe I don't want to leave Frankfurt quite yet._

 

For some reason, Alfred finds this post rather chilling. The next one is even more unnerving, though.

 

_Papa found **her**. He says he saw **her** leaving a restaurant, a young waitress. He is out looking for her right now. Ugh. More importantly, though, I found **him** again! I waited in the alley by the café for him, and he showed up! He had the cutest look on his face, like a little kitten shivering in the cold. I could see the tint of blush on his pale skin and I SWEAR I could have fainted in delight. He’s gorgeous! He went inside with some tart, though, but she doesn't deserve him! Oh he's beautiful. I dream of the day I can take him to Paris._

 

By then, Alfred wasn't really looking forward to reading the next post, it felt too familiar to him, and he had an aching theory abut who it was written about, but he did so with slow apprehension, like approaching a sleeping bear.

 

_OMFG I ACTUALLY MET HIM. I MET HIM I MET HIM. His name is Alfred. He's a student teacher for Berlin University, prefers hot chocolate over coffee, and is always sooooo cold. It is good, because I got to hold him for a FULL TEN MINUTES. He is adorable! I have never seen a boy blush like him, and he gets flustered so easily! And he stammers like a little child, all nervous, and red. I'm in love, I really am. And guess what? He's travelling all over Europe! I bet I can get Papa to change around our travel plans a bit, I want to meet him again. I know I said I was excited about Paris, but Alfred is so much more precious. I WANT TO MARRY HIM AND LIVE WITH HIM IN A CASTLE WHERE WE WILL EXIST HAPPILY WITHOUT TRAMPS OR PAPA TO BOTHER US. His eyes are just the prettiest... I HELD HIS HAND._

_Oh, and Papa brought home **her**. She looks familiar, but then again all the girls look the same. _

 

Alfred is as white as sheet, staring at the blog post with clear anxiety. Oh lord...Oh lord, god above he had a stalker.

 

 

-

 

Alfred arrives at the Kaffeehaus again the next day, hoping to once again see Sarah, hoping she was just late the day before, or held up somewhere, though he does this with some apprehension, knowing now that Herbert von Krolock has been following him around the past few days. Sarah is more important than his fears, though. When he gets there, sadly, she is not waiting for him. But someone else is.

 

"You're Alfred, right?" A tall woman with generous curves and amazingly scarlet hair asks from her spot against the wall. She smokes a cigarette lazily, looking at him the sort of way someone looks at a slug in their garden.

 

"Uh...Ja." Alfred responds meekly, approaching her with slow caution.

 

The woman says nothing, but holds up a folded piece of lavender parchment, offering it to him. When he takes it, she drops her arm immediately, turning on point to walk away.

 

"Ah, wait!" Alfred calls to her, but she swiftly struts off, her stilettos clipping against the sidewalk.

 

Alfred looks at the note.

 

_My dearest friend_ _,_

 

The note reads.

 

_I am sorry to say that I have decided not to travel with you and your professor. I met someone else, and will not be seeing you again. By the time you read this note, we shall be on our way to other countries, and bigger adventures. Please do not try to contact me. I wish you your best._

_Au_ _f wie_ _d_ _erse_ _hen,_

_Sarah_

 

Alfred is heartbroken.

 

 


	2. He's Clueless

Alfred and the Professor were on a train to Stuttgart, books piled on the seats next to them as Alfred scribbled notes, ignoring how the professor had fallen asleep mid-lecture. Honestly, Alfred is relieved he doesn’t have to listen to him anymore. He’s already very depressed about their time in Frankfurt.

 

It wasn’t just that Sarah had left him for greener pastures (though she was never his in the first place), but also just leaving Frankfurt in general. They’d been travelling for a while now, but they’d spent longer in Frankfurt than any other city. He was starting to develop a normalcy, even finding a friend in Sarah, and Alfred never makes friends, even when he’s not travelling from city to city.

 

Leaving felt like putting something behind. And, to be honest, he was worried about Sarah. Sure, he’d received a letter in her hand writing telling him to forget her, but it was handed to him by that strange woman. Sarah wasn’t the type to just abandon someone like that, at least, Alfred doesn’t think she’s like that.

 

He pulls out the letter, leaving the notes to the side. They’d be in Stuttgart soon; it was only an hour away by train.

 

He examines the lavender paper again, scrunching his nose as he realises it’s been sprayed with perfume. Not Sarah’s perfume, though, she always smelled like vanilla and flowers. No, this was a very defined perfume, subtle, earthy, with hints of lavender and lilac. He’d smelt that somewhere before…

 

There’s still twenty more minutes till the train is due to arrive, so he pulls out his laptop and puts away his notes. Without thinking, he opens a tab to Herbert’s blog, still there from the night before. There’s new entries.

 

 

_WORST NEWS. Sarah, you know, **her** , knows my darling Alfred! Apparently, she was the one who he meets outside the café, and she was going to run away with him! How dare she think Papa is better than my Alfred...Well, she can't have him! but she doesn't even like him! It's an atrocity! Ugh, and Papa wants me to spend time with her! WHY WOULD I DO THAT SHE'S HORRIBLE. I DON'T MAKE FRIENDS WITH HORRIBLE TRAMPS. Plus her fashion sense is gross. She dresses like a lumberjack fell into an 18th century library. AND HER MAKEUP IS SO MESSY ALFRED WILL NEVER LOVE HER. My eyeliner is ON FLEEK he should marry me. _

What? Honest, he’d forgotten for a moment that Herbert had been stalking him for a week, but he finds it even more creepy to find that not only is Herbert stalking him, but he knows Sarah. Wait, what? Alfred remembers the past quotes talking about how Herbert’s father had picked up a waitress in Frankfurt, apparently a common pastime of his. But logically his father is much too old to even appeal to Sarah.

 

Why would she… He flips to a new page and starts searching for the name von Krolock. This gives much more fortuitous results than with Herbert.

 

The Krolock family was old, real old. They owned a multi-faceted corporation dealing in clean energy, but Herbert’s father, apparently named Graf von Krolock, was also the owner of a handful of factories based on mechanical industry, as well as a fashion company, a few processed food companies, and more recently, Monsanto. It came from old, old money, back to the days of German nobles, but in this modern age he’d succeeded well. The man was a borderline billionaire…No wonder Herbert flaunted his father’s wealth so easily.

 

He finds a few more articles about Herbert this way, though there aren’t many. Alfred guesses Krolock has a hand in the media, because Herbert seems to be causing several scandals simply by existing. Him being very openly gay seemed to be the main target of the criticism, but there were rumours of drug addiction as well.

 

Alfred switches back to the blog tag, watching as the page reloads itself to reveal a brand, new post, hot off the presses.

 

_BEST. NEWS. EVER. Turns out Papa is a BIG FAN of the professor Alfred works for. Or, whatever you call someone you greatly admire in a humorous, hate sort of way. HI just read some of his papers, he’s hilarious. We are adjusting our schedule to follow them to Stuttgart. I GET TO SEE MY DARLING ALFRED AGAIN. I swear I'm going to faint from the excitement! Sarah, ugh, is SO not for the change in plans, but she doesn't know why we are doing it, so I guess it's fine. GOTT I'M SO EXCITED WHAT WILL I WEAR????_

Oh no…

 

Before Alfred can even fathom this, though, the train is pulling to a stop and the professor is huffing himself awake. He closes his laptop so fast he worries he injured it, but does not check, not as Abronsius is rushing him to gather their things so they can get right to work.

 

Oh lord in heaven above, what was his life becoming?

 

-

 

What a coincidence (not) that when Alfred and Abronsius reach their hotel, it turns out they don’t have a room for them. And outside is a concerned man; tall, dark, and dressed in fine clothing stands a man much too young to possibly be Herbert’s father. Yet, with an introduction it is revealed the man is Graf von Krolock, fawning over the Professor and insisting that they stay in his hotel in the most cordial of ways. Alfred is no idiot, he can tell when he’s being manipulated, but the Professor doesn’t know what he knows, and won’t even try to listen to Alfred as the young assistant tries to explain that this man is stalking them along with his son, and also apparently kidnapped Sarah.

 

But he’s being hustled into an expensive car (a different one than before, he notices), and the professor is giving him a look that either means ‘stop being rude’ or ‘stop being an idiot’. He can never distinguish those…Thankfully, Herbert isn’t with his father, and Alfred is able to delude himself into thinking maybe he’s just overreacting, maybe Herbert’s not _actually stalking_ Alfred. Maybe this is a completely different von Krolock, maybe Herbert’s not even related to him, maybe this is all just and elaborate dream.

 

Alfred avidly lives in his denial the whole ride to the hotel.

 

Said hotel is dazzling. Five star, top floor suite with a view of Stuttgart. Alfred is used to cheap hotel rooms: bed, and bath and nothing else. Typically, they only get one bed, though once or twice they’d gotten two beds, a luxury to Alfred. But coming into this hotel, Krolock says they have five bedrooms, so the professor and Alfred have no reason to share, despite argument against the idea.

 

Of course, there are other matters to attend to first.

 

“Alfred?! Mon cher, is that you?!” A voice squeals as soon as Alfred enters the hotel-room, and suddenly he’s being tackled by a very excited Herbert. “Oh I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you again, my darling!” He says as if he _really_ thought he’d never see Alfred again, but both him and Alfred know what an elaborate plot this is.

 

“Oh…Hello Herbert.” Alfred slowly says, trying to stop the blush forming on his face as he squirms in the young man’s arms. He tries not to paint grimace on his lips, succeeding with an awkward, gritted smile. “What a…Pleasant surprise.”

 

“I did not know your assistant was already acquainted with my son.” Krolock comments to the Professor casually. Liar.

 

“I did not either…” The professor grumbles, giving the young man a disapproving stare.

 

“Oh Papa, we met in Frankfurt! Remember? I told you about the pretty young man with the hair and the lashes, and the café by the hotel, remember?” Herbert tosses out with elaborate hand gestures, keeping an arm around Alfred.

 

Krolock just nods. “I am glad to see you are making friends, Herbert.” He says with disinterest, hardly even looking at his ‘son’. “Please, Dr. Abronsius, let us go to the sitting room, I will find my copy of your book.” He strolls away without waiting for a reply, leading the old man out of the room.

 

Alfred’s head is spinning, not even noticing as Herbert’s arm is still wrapped around his waist.

 

“Oh Alfred, you’re all cold again! Here, I will show you to your room. Oh, it is so exciting to see you, cher. I forgot to tell you the other night, but I’ve been travelling with Papa all over Europe these past few months, isn’t that lovely. But he put our trip on hold when he heard about your professor’s tour. He’s a big fan of…Whatever whatever whatever. What a coincidence, don’t you think? Here’s your room, cher. Please do join me in my room for wine, yes? It’s right next door. I have a fireplace in there as well, you can get warm. Oh, I can’t wait to spend time with you.” He speaks so fast and fluidly in his odd accent, letting words flow together and hardly pausing whilst he saunters Alfred through a doorway.

 

Said Alfred is dazed as he mutters a reply, something about being too busy to drink wine or do anything leisure-worthy, but he’s not really paying attention as Herbert disappears and he’s left alone in his room. He wonders where Sarah is. Probably in her own room…But wouldn’t she have come out when they arrived? It’s not like Herbert was subtle…Or even a little bit quiet about the whole thing. He focuses on his room.

 

It’s quite a big room, to be honest, bigger than any room he’s stayed in before. There’s a large bed, and a desk, and a television, a reading chair, and a vanity. He can see a door he presumes leads to a bathroom, and to think he has his own bathroom, that is a surprise. He has never had his own bathroom…

 

Alfred doesn’t unpack, he never unpacks, but he does set up some of his books and work along the desk, quickly checking over his schedule, the professor’s email, and such. He spends some time looking over international news sites, takes notes on current affairs.

 

Almost without thinking, he checks Herbert’s blog. There’s a new post.

_OKAY ACTUAL BEST NEWS EVER. Alfred and his professor are staying with us in Stuttgart! Papa bought out the hotel they were supposed to stay at and convinced them to stay with us in our hotel suite (top floor, five bedrooms, and a balcony :D). Papa says they’re on the way to the hotel right now. HE'LL BE  IN THE ROOM NEXT TO ME. Papa told Sarah to keep out of sight, tho I don't care to know why. ALFRED IS MINE AND SHE CAN'T HAVE HIM. I’m going to see if he wants to join me for wine in my room. He’ll probably say yes, I’m irresistible._

Alfred blinks, looking over the post again. He knew this wasn’t a coincidence, but the blatant announcement of it all seemed…Well, he shouldn’t be questioning it. Still, this does confirm that Sarah is somewhere in the suite…There’s a commotion in the room next door. Alfred wonders if it is Herbert, or someone else.

 

He finds it hard to wonder too much, though.

 

-

 

Since everyone else is occupied (Or so he assumes, though he has no idea what Herbert is up to, and doesn’t really want to think about it), Alfred goes searching for Sarah. There’s many rooms to the hotel suite, but Alfred already has some of them figured out. Like his own, the Professor’s, and Herbert’s. He knows the sitting room, and quickly finds the kitchen, soon after finding a room he assumes is Krolocks. Then there’s the last bedroom…

 

It’s empty, except for an unmade bed. There’s a suitcase against the wall, open to reveal piles of women’s clothing and trinkets. Tentatively, Alfred creeps into the room, looking around cautiously. Was this Sarah’s room?

 

Then he hears it, the distinct humming of a woman’s voice coming from the walls, or more so behind the wall that contained another door. Without thinking, Alfred rushes to the door, yanking it open- Only to immediately cover his eyes and slam the door shut. Shit. Stupid, stupid Alfred, of course this is the bathroom, which is why he shouldn’t be too surprised to have seen Sarah sitting in a bath singing to herself and shaving her legs…Dammit Alfred.

 

He presses himself against the wall, eyes covered by his hand as he tries to calm his stuttering heart.

 

“Hello?” Her voice, sweet and clear like he remembers it, rings from the doorway as Sarah exits the bathroom. Alfred squeaks and peaks from behind his fingers to see his friend in a scarlet robe, drying off her hair. “Alfred?!” She scowls upon seeing him, taking slow, angry steps towards him, “Alfred, what are you doing here? Are you stalking me?!”

 

“What?!” Alfred squeaks, trying to back away from Sarah only to remember he is literally pressed to the wall. “No, no! This was a coincidence. If anything, someone else is stalking me!”

 

Sarah stops in her slow attack. “What? Who’s stalking you? What is going on, Alfred?”

 

“Um…Well…”

 

So Alfred and Sarah sat down on her bed, and Alfred explained the odd occurrences of the past few days, and the posts he’d read on Herbert’s blog. She spent the whole story brushing out her hair and making loud and excited comments, including “You’re the handsome paramour Herbert keeps rambling about?” and “I can’t believe you’re stalking your stalker’s blog!”

 

“I’m not stalking him!” Alfred replied defensively, knowing full well his face was flushed red, and not from the cold. “I just…I’m keeping track of what’s actually going on…”

 

“Well, it’s certainly a strange situation…” Sarah shrugs and falls back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling with a wistful sigh. “That’s not a bad thing, though.” She pats the spot next to her and Alfred hesitantly lies down, keeping his body rigid and cautious.

 

“How did you even meet von Krolock in the first place?” He asks, glancing at the girl with the fire in her eyes.

 

Sarah grins and rolls onto her side so she’s facing Alfred, propping up her head and leaning forward like she’s telling a secret. “Remember how I told you I was a waitress?” Alfred nods. “Well, he came in one night and the waitress he was assigned to ran out, which is fine because Mags was always kind of a horrible waitress, but anyways I was told to cover her. And he started asking all these questions every time I came by. He wanted to know where the food came from, and all about our menus and drinks. There were so many things I didn’t even think to know how to answer, he knew so much!”

 

“Isn’t that kind of distracting?” Alfred had always lived in a constant state of work, and figured most people would share his philosophy that work should be work until it is done, no distractions.

 

“It was a slow night, totally fine.” Sarah shrugs in a way that suggests she does not, in fact, share that philosophy. “Anyways, he gave me a massive tip and left just before my shift ended. And then he came back a few nights later, and started talking to me again. He told me all these stories about his life and travels and…Well, it was just so exciting, Alfred! Then he told me he was leaving town, and invited me with him and I…I said yes.” Sarah frowns slightly, but her eyes are still sparkling with the promise of adventure.

 

“I wish you had sent me more notice.” Alfred says quietly. “I was worried when you didn’t arrive…”

 

“I’m sorry Alfred.” Sarah replies. “I was more spur of the moment than thought out. And I didn’t think I would ever see you again…”

 

Alfred didn’t exactly feel good, hearing her say that. He hides his frown and sits up. “I um…I should go get some work done. The Professor will be cross with me if he finds that I’m taking too many breaks.”

 

“Gott, it’s long past night, Alfred, most people would be sleeping right now, let alone taking breaks.” Sarah sits up too, eyes wide and voice sharp. “You can’t live like this, Alfred, it’s not good for you.”

 

“I wouldn’t have anything if I didn’t have this job. You…You don’t understand.” Alfred stands from the bed, stepping towards the door.

 

“Alfred…” Sarah says, softer, apologetic.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Sarah. Possibly.”

 

She doesn’t follow him out of the room.

 

-

 

Having gone through that horrifyingly embarrassing experience, Alfred returns to his own room, finding himself twice as exhausted as he previously was. Despite telling Sarah he was going to sit down and get some work done, he didn’t really have much to do. With the Professor preoccupied with the Count, he didn’t really need to take notes, and his schedule was sorted out for the next week.

 

What he really needs is a distraction, anything really to keep his mind off of his predicament. But there isn’t much to do here. It’s not like he has any books to read, or any sort of entertainment, for that matter. He can’t leave the hotel, not with the professor preoccupied, and it being so late at night already.

 

CRASH!

 

The sound of breaking glass jolts Alfred out of his thoughts, causing him to jump away from the wall. Was that coming from next door? Alfred creps closer to the wall so he can press his ear against it, only to be greeted immediately with another CRASH. Agh! What was going on in there?

 

Against his better judgement, Alfred finds his feet leading him out his own door and up to Herbert’s. His hand shakes as he knocks twice on the polished wood, jumping back when the sound of a large, heavy objects bangs against the door.

 

“Leave me alone, Vater!” An angry voice that is distinctly Herbert’s shouts form the other side.

 

“Um…It’s me, Alfred…Are you okay in there?” Alfred tries, knocking again.

 

“Ah! Oh gosh, um…One moment, cher!” Herbert replies, voice cracking. It takes a full five minutes of frantic shuffling before the door is yanked open, revealing Herbert in all his glory, albeit slightly frazzled. “Hello there, Alfred.” He smiles without teeth, which Alfred finds strangely more intimidating than a toothy grin.

 

“Um…Hello, Herbert. Are you alright? It sounded like you broke something in here.” Alfred asks politely, though his spine is rigid and he can’t let himself look directly in Herbert’s eyes. There seemed too many coincidences involving his stalker for this to all add up properly.

 

Herbert’s smile drops. “Oh…No, I am fine. Just a little…accident, heh.” He giggles half-heartedly, and Alfred is in no way convinced this man is fine.

 

“A-are you sure?” The young student curses himself silently for letting his voice waver. He has no want to show weakness in front of this imposing man. “I could…I could help you clean up, if you want…”

 

Alfred shivers at the wide beam he receives in response. “How kind of you, Alfred. It’s fine, though, I already cleaned it up.” Herbert waves a hand as if to dismiss the subject. “You can come in if you like, though. I still have that bottle of wine, should you want to accept my earlier invitation.” His expression is far too hopeful and innocent to excuse the chilling feeling that spikes Alfred’s stomach. He had no reason to fear this puppy of a man…Granted, there was the possibility of Herbert purposefully changing his father’s trip just to follow Alfred to Stuttgart. And the fact that Sarah was here, and no one had told him, despite common courtesy dictating they be introduced in the least.

 

“I um…I don’t really drink much.” Alfred replies weakly. It’s a rather poor reason to refuse Herbert’s invitation, but the Count’s son had been nothing if not intimidatingly civil, and he had no social reason to reject him.

 

“Oh that is fine. We can just talk, then! Come, come, you are shivering cher, and my room is much warmer.” Herbert tugs Alfred into the room with an arm over his shoulder and shuts the door behind him.


End file.
